


It's Raining and Still

by CaptainErica



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, grumpy!draco, lawyer!draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 17:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20911364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainErica/pseuds/CaptainErica
Summary: Draco Malfoy is rather.... grumpy, one might be forgiven for thinking. He's particular, distracted, and yet still very focused. Hermione Granger seems to be completely the opposite, if everything he has observed can be considered true.





	It's Raining and Still

It was brightly sunny, which was horrible and uncalled for, and there sat Granger at a picnic table looking like she enjoyed the sun and the heat.

It was raining, a terrible day, all dreary and drippy and soggy; and there was Granger, her wand making an umbrella over her head as she walked on through the crowd like she was alone and not utterly surrounded by throngs of people.

It was a Ministry Gala, something worse than torture that Draco was uncertain wasn't actually torture in disguise, and there was Granger, her dress red and her smile wide as she talked like this wasn't the most painful thing to have to attend.

It was a normal day, boring and cloudy though Draco was inside and had been for a few hours so who really knew what horrors the weather had dreamed up in his absence. The library at the Ministry was the most comprehensive in the country, barring Hogwarts, of course, which he had been informed might well be in Scotland so therefore his claim could still stand. He would normally have stayed in the library at the Manor, except that he was quite sick of being there and would rather be anywhere else right now. Well, and he was researching something for work; a case of neglectful ownership and poor management of facilities that had lead to a bit of an outbreak of panic and bad ingredients within the potions making community. All very pressing, all very confusing, and all very delicate so he needed to get all of his facts straight before he could present anything.

The library had many aisles and rows, and many ways to access the books. He knew very little about book preservation himself, but he had heard someone saying that the library employed any number of complex archival spells to keep the volumes from crumbling due to age. It was of intellectual interest, and he had wondered when he heard it if Hogwarts did the same thing, or similar, but today is about magical plants and animals and proper ways of raising them for mass sale; This meant that he had to keep focused and he had to find the section for each so he could find some books to use. It wouldn't be very easy; the librarian on duty today was not his biggest fan. It was some mix of Death Eater fear and the time he had gotten into a standoff with Weasley while standing before a table full of older volumes. The latter he understood, the former was frustrating but he was almost used to it by now. Almost only because he was horribly stubborn and cared far more about what people thought of him than he really should considering everything about his past and his choices.

"Going to pick a book or have you been frozen? Wouldn't be the first person this week, you know, was an outburst of people getting frozen still as a statue, thought it had calmed down but..." a voice says from behind Draco and he rolls his eyes, turning to face Harry Potter with a look of bored irritation, something he was very good at affecting when needed.

"Considering where I need to go." He says, in a tone that says 'if you must know'. It makes Potter's lips twitch like he's heard something faintly amusing.

"You sound just like Hermione when you say things like that." He says, and Draco only doesn't scowl because he thinks it's meant to be a compliment. "Well, I won't bother your process, though you should know that Capehart has been running around the Ministry saying you have no chance of making a case against his clients; seems to think he has something hidden up his sleeve. Hermione is furious of course, banned him from her department, as if she had true authority to do so... not that the head would ever disagree with her, of course. Capehart is trying to claim it's favoritism, keeping him from the department with the most information he might be able to use." Very chatty today, Draco thinks as Potter finishes what he's saying, must have been a busy week.

He scoffs though, annoyed, which Potter probably expected him to be or else he wouldn't have brought it up; Capehart had always been the absolute worst when he had a defense case for a big client, so he ultimately isn't very surprised. "Granger favor  _ me _ in any way? Did she set him to rights?" He asks, and Potter snorts.

"She's doing so right now, 12 pages worth of just  _ notes _ on why he's wrong. Doubt he'll ever take a case concerning her department ever again." He says, sounding pleased and proud and a little scared all at once.

Draco feels it, proud of her, not that she needed him on her side at all. He also feels the fear, and he knows she's only on his side right now because he's defending the rights of magical animals and plants. He would take it, for now; their non-existent relationship was often on shaky ground due to his own inability to be consistently pleasant. Having her on his side at this moment in time was good, it helped his case and his nerves (the fear, remember?).

It was a cooler night for this time of year, for which Draco could be silently thankful as he wasn't built for heat in any way. He was in full robes, appropriately colored for the season but not quite appropriately designed; not that it mattered due to the cooling charms he employed, but still.

And there was Granger, dressed in something Pansy was trying to tell him was called a sundress. She was settled on a blanket with her friends and looking for all the world like she was totally comfortable there with her sun kissed skin and smiling eyes. 

Blinking, Draco tunes back into what Pansy was telling him: something about Ronald Weasley, something about sundresses, something about...

"And then, I mean I don't know, Ginevra said she would take me to a muggle store; though I don't think I trust her. Are you and Granger speaking this week? She is someone I would trust, I mean, again,  _ look _ at her." Pansy finishes, gesturing out toward where Granger and her friends are settled.

Draco wrinkles his nose, the implication annoying. "We're not children, Parkinson, we're civil." He says, looking away from the group in case it be construed that he was staring, which he was absolutely not doing. "But we are not exactly friends, so I'm not sure what sway you believe I hold. What makes you think the Weasley won't have Granger tag along?" He asks, moving to walk away from the groups of people sitting out and toward the exit of the park. 

"Maybe, but I can't leave these types of things to chance, and I can't let Granger be ahead of me fashion wise." She says, so matter of fact, but Draco doesn't respond. If Pansy can’t trust her  _ not _ girlfriend to shop with her, then Draco can’t imagine she would actually trust Granger.

It was a cool day, a promise of fall as Blaise had called it earlier in the week. Draco was sitting in an uncomfortable chair, waiting for the Wizengamot to make their decision and call him back in. It was a no brainer to him: the people who owned the farms had known what they were putting out into the market. They were negligent, unhygienic, and clearly rather cruel. It was disgusting, really. Draco had felt thoroughly disgusted as he had researched the facilities and what had lead to the problem they are now facing, the numerous problems really.

“The nerve of him, really.” Draco hears Potter saying from just down the hall. There isn’t a lot of heat to the words, it mostly sounds like he is appeasing someone.

“Honestly, the gall.” A much more heated voice agrees, and Draco looks up from his perusal of the pattern on the floor in time to see Potter and Granger turn a corner into the waiting area. 

There were very few other people milling around in this waiting area, the defendants all having chosen to steer clear because Draco was there. His own clients were settled in the back of the waiting area, talking with each other and the few other Ministry representatives who were there.

“Not talking about Capehart, are you?” He asks, causing both Potter and Granger to look over sharply, clearly surprised to be addressed; Draco can’t imagine how considering they’re the most famous people in the building.

Potter recovers first, though it’s only a fraction of a moment faster than Granger so it almost doesn’t count. “Perhaps.” He says, a grin on his face, “We’ve just come from down where he’s waiting with his clients, it’s…”

“It’s appalling, is what it is.” Granger says, clearly not in the mood for Potter to be talkative today, at least not when she could be saying something. “He’s so  _ smug _ , as if he hadn’t heard himself speaking in there, nor you, and thinks he’s actually got a chance of coming out of this the winner.” She shakes her head, her hair bouncing into her face, unruly, so she brushes it back. “Anyway, Harry says there’s more to this posturing, but he won’t say anything further.” She adds, giving Potter a look that makes Draco snort.

“Well, in terms of Capehart, he’s always had a bit of an inflated sense of ability.” Draco says, shaking his head, “He would never let on that he thought he did poorly, not in front of a client.” He adds, and Potter nods, though Granger is still giving him a look. 

Potter, oblivious as he seems to be to Granger’s huff of annoyance at him not paying her any attention, has his attention on Draco. “Get lunch with us after the announcement? You’re going back in soon for the reading, hm? We’ll wait for you.” He says, and Draco blinks, then looks to Granger who seems not at all surprised by the offer.

“Well, if I’ve won, I suppose I’ll have something to celebrate.” He says, sitting back a little, crossing his legs, “Deserve a good lunch.”

Granger snorts and rolls her eyes, a very  _ un _ attractive thing to do but Draco isn’t paying attention to things like  _ that _ . “Right, well, we’ll treat you, then, if you’ve won.” She says, in that way that’s both a tease and a challenge.

It’s the type of tone that always colors their interactions and leads them to that back and forth relationship that they have. 

It  _ is _ cold out when Draco exits the Ministry out into the Muggle world right behind Granger and ahead of Potter. It’s horrible, really, as he had expected it to be, and he silently casts a warming charm on his clothing just in case as Granger turns down the alley they’ve come out in, and then up onto the main street.

“There’s a great little pub, just up here.” Potter says, right beside him now, hands stuffed into his pockets, unworried by Granger’s quicker stride.

“I do hope so, Potter.” He says in response, and Potter just shakes his head, eyes on the back of Granger’s head.

They’re an odd group, Draco thinks, but they’re in Muggle London now, so no one knows who they are or what they represent. In fact they look more like a normal group of friends or coworkers going out for lunch than anything else they might be considered.

Potter sits across from Draco at the 4-person table they choose, leaving Granger to sit between them. Draco tries not to think about it. 

“Alright, now we’re out of the Ministry, away from the Wizengamot, tell us your gossip.” Granger demands once the server has taken their orders and left them alone. 

Draco makes a soft humming sound, looking from her to Potter, intrigued now, thinking back to the conversation they’d had just before he had been called back in for the verdict. “Yes, Potter, it was something about Capehart, was it not? He looked a little more than just frustrated at having lost earlier.” He says, a little light, but definitely interested in what he might have to say.

Potter sighs, then shakes his head. “Ah, I shouldn’t say, but it will be all over the place later: his firm is canning him.” He shrugs, thanking the server when she brings their drinks and taking a drink before continuing. “He was being so loud about the case that they visited the legal department to see about contracts, think they wanted to take him off this one, but too late and all that. He found out, and tried to tell them he’d be better, you see, and then basically bet the win on his career.”

Draco snorts, tipping back his head as he takes a sip of his drink. “Shouldn’t have bet his career on this case, it was open and shut.” He says, setting the glass down.

“It wasn’t really.” Granger says, and Draco blinks, surprised. “This case, I mean, it was completely murky. I’d been bogged down with the complaints and the issues for  _ weeks _ , and by the time I had managed to figure out a pattern, the bad ingredients had been on the market for at least 6 months, and by then you had been called in because a lawsuit was being filed.” She nods to Draco at that, and he frowns, thinking back.

“Well…” He says, thoughtful, a frown tugging at his lips as he considers what she had said. “It took a lot of research, of course.” because it  _ had _ , it had been a nightmare in that way. Not all cases required that he look up historical precedent, or the effects of poorly harvested potions ingredients on the myriad of potions they could be used for. “I mean, finding out about the animal abuse was really the icing on the cake, without that I think it would have just been a fine…”

Potter makes a face that he catches and interprets to mean that that’s not true at all, but he’s not sure what he’s supposed to take from this.

“It was a sure win on the firm’s part. They might have wanted to get rid of him after giving it to him, but it wasn’t going to hurt them at all to have him do it initially, because it was an open and shut case; then you were put on it, and they must have started to panic.” Granger says, and through all that, Draco thinks ehs might have just complimented him.

“Hear that, Potter? I think Granger thinks I’m good at my job.” He says, raising his glass and his eyebrows, voice a little dry, but he’s playing it off as amused. 

Potter takes a sip of his own drink, and shakes his head, “She thinks a lot more than just that about you.” He says, and before either he or Granger can react to that, the server is back with their meals, effectively distracting them. Though he’s pretty sure he hears Potter grunt in pain from what has to have been a kick to his shin.

It’s truly fall now, verging on winter if the way the clouds overhead are looming means anything, and there is Granger, stood with her arms full of a large pumpkin. 

She’s got on a knit cap, somehow perched atop her calmed curls, and gloves on her pumpkin-filled hands. It’s almost Halloween, and she had insisted that pumpkins were a necessity, and that they had to get them themselves.

“This is miserable, Granger, really.” Draco says, frowning up at the sky, a little snotty sounding. He brushes a grey-gloved hand over his nose as if something had fallen there, and then turns to look at her again; she looked perfect, as always.

“Yes, truly, grab that one there, would you?” She asks, ignoring his mood as she tends to when he’s being purposefully unreasonable. “And then we’ll go for a hot lunch, I’m feeling stew.” 

Draco wrinkles his nose. “Come, stop carrying that around.” He says, ignoring her protests as he takes the large pumpkin from her to set it in their too full basket. “I think we’ve enough pumpkins for Halloween, and I’m sure Potter could really care less how fresh picked they are or aren’t. He’s barely able to discern freshness as is.”

Granger sighs, shaking her head a little, but she’s smiling, which he appreciates. “Alright then, lead on,  _ Malfoy. _ ” She says, a little pointedly. 

It’s snowing, not a lot of snow, but enough that it’s liable to ruin Draco’s mood.

Granger, of course, looks right out of a Christmas card: perfect curls under a woolen cap, a well-fit winter cloak covering her dress, and warm boots on her feet. She had this way about her, always looking right for whatever horror was going on with the weather, and Draco was quite taken by it.

Or, rather, he was quite taken by  _ her. _

Not  _ her _ , it was her ability to, it was more that he couldn’t believe that she had grown up to be so, it was-

“Ginevra says I have to start calling her  _ Ginny _ or she won’t tell her mum we’re dating.” Pansy says, having snuck up on him while he was contemplating Granger as she stood outside with some of her Ministry colleagues.

“I suppose everyone calls her that.” He says, vague, trying to figure out why Granger and her companions haven’t come in from the cold yet.

Pansy huffs a little, and he turns to look at her simply because he knows he must. “That’s just the  _ point _ isn’t it?” She demands, and he doesn’t really know, but when she sounds like this he knows from experience that he should err on the side of agreement.

“If you’re talking about Ginny, you don’t have to worry about it, Parkinson.” Granger says, saving Draco from having to pretend he cared or understood what was needed here. She nods to him as she takes her gloves and hat off, holding them out to be whisked away by a charm so she can work on her cloak. “She was having a laugh, she likes that you call her Ginevra, said it was  _ refreshing _ , and that she’d think something was wrong with you if you stopped.”

Draco watches Pansy’s reaction to that, interested in his own right because it had multiple desirable effects. The main thing it gave him was a chance to get away from Pansy. 

“Ah, I think I must thank you for saving me. I fear I had no idea what she was talking about.” He says, watching Pansy walk away from them.

Granger looks at him a moment before answering, and then she sounds amused. “Why, because you’d been staring at me through the window instead of listening to her?” She asks, and Draco almost sutters, but he’s nothing in his mouth so it’s just his lips parting and his cheeks turning pink. Granger doesn’t seem to notice, having grabbed two champagne flutes from a passing tray. “Take this, you look parched.” She says, and there’s a little mischief in her eyes.

It’s sunny and cold, and Draco is watching Granger instruct little Teddy on how to properly take a picture. 

Draco thinks it’s too cold for this, but his aunt thinks it’s fine for them to be outside like that. She also thinks Draco is watching Granger too closely to be ‘semi acquaintances’ like he had tried to tell her they were when he had shown up.

It’s snowing, great drifts of snow covering the ground, and Granger is standing outside the Manor. She looks like a doll, like a porcelain doll with her smooth skin and pink cheeks, with her red gloves and pom-pom hat and matching jacket.

“I’m here to ask you out.” She says, when Draco is standing at the gate, covered head to toe in black fur and silver clasps, a touch of a scowl on his face at having to come out here at all.

It surprises him, and so he’s silent a moment before his brain starts up again. “Well, I’m out.” He says, gesturing just a touch at the fact that they’re outside, in the snow.

She laughs, just a little, and shakes her head. “Ah, Malfoy, no.” She says, a grin breaking out across her lips. “To lunch, on a date, you know.” She says, and he doesn’t for a second.

“A date? You came all the way to the gate to ask me on a date?” He asks, almost incredulous, but before Granger can react negatively, he continues. “You could have sent an  _ owl _ , then neither of us would have to stand out in this abysmal weather.”

“A letter would be cowardly, Malfoy, I can talk myself out of a letter, but I can’t talk myself out of it if I’m standing here with you.” 

It’s very logical, but also very… “You’re such a  _ Gryffindor _ sometimes, Granger.” He says, before stepping fully through the gate. “Come, how do you feel about that new place in Diagon? I’ve heard it’s supposed to be decent.”

Granger snorts softly, shaking her head, but she takes his arm anyway. “Sure, let’s go there.” She says, and Draco allows himself a small smile before turning on his heel and disapparating with Hermione Granger on his arm.


End file.
